Chapter 7: Escalation

Brian’s face was flushed, his breath reeking of whiskey. “Eric Grant, did I say you could leave?”

The laughter that followed was mean-spirited—a chorus of jeers and fork-banging. I stared back, anger rising. “What, do I need your permission to leave now?”

Brian looked genuinely shocked, as if no one had ever talked back to him. The room tensed, Mark shifting uneasily.

Brian shoved my shoulder, voice cold. “What’s your problem? If you don’t clear this up, you’re not walking out that door.”

Before he could finish, a squad of security guards in matching polos with the Sanderson Holdings logo filed in, faces set in bored professionalism. The hotel belonged to his family, of course.

Rachel stepped between us, hands raised. “Let’s not make a scene, okay? We’re supposed to be celebrating.”

I nodded at her, grateful. “Thanks, Rachel, but this isn’t worth a fight.”

I picked up my lukewarm tea, offering it as a peace gesture. “Here’s to old times, all right?”

Brian slapped the cup from my hand, tea splattering everywhere. The room froze.

He sneered, “Eric, you think you can act high and mighty just because you’re a government worker? Not this time. What’s so important for a little clerk like you?”

Some classmates tried to intervene, but the mood was tense, everyone watching to see if I’d break.